Anchor
by KeladryB
Summary: The world is spinning out of control. Pre-"The Falls Gonna Kill You"


Title: Anchor  
Summary: The world is spinning out of control. Pre-"The Falls Gonna Kill You"  
Pairing: CJ/Toby  
Rating: PG  
Notes:  
Thanks go out to clairealison, krazykitkat, and pauraque. Also lifeasanamazon for telling me to post this, even though I'm not too confident about it's goodness.  
  
Her head feels thick and heavy, and the world is spinning too fast for her to keep up. In her mind, she can hear her college roommate's voice, patient and insistent: _"you're dizzy because you're drunk, Claudia Jean. Put both your feet on the floor, and try to sleep. If you move them, you'll just get more dizzy, and you'll be nauseous to boot."_ She uncrosses her legs, kicks off her shoes, and sits up straighter in her chair, both feet firmly planted on the carpet, but she's not drunk, and she's not trying to sleep, so it's not working. Then again, it didn't work when she was nineteen, either, so maybe it just doesn't work for her. Toby appears in her doorway, and she raises a hand to stop whatever it is he's planning to say.  
  
"Don't," she whispers. "Just -- Don't. Not now."  
  
He nods, silently, but he stays there, leaning against her doorframe, watching her. The world is still spinning out of control, and the white noise of the air conditioner is deafening, and she wonders if anyone's ever been flung off the planet by the sheer force of its rotation. Because she can, she grabs a paperweight off her desk and hurls it at Toby with all her might. It falls short, landing with a dull _thump_ at his feet. He flinches, but remains silent, and the room is a little slower, a little more manageable. She picks up her laptop and sets it gingerly by her feet, then places Gail's bowl on top of it. She pauses a moment, then swipes and arm across her desk, sending papers flying.  
  
"That's better," she announces. The world has resumed its normal pace, the air conditioner is quiet now, and she can turn her focus towards him. "You lied about lying to me," she says.  
  
"Yes," is his reply, then gestures to the papers still shifting on the ground. "You've made quite a mess there."  
  
"This is what -- that night, this is what it was about. When you showed up at four in the morning, it was about --"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And the leak -- this was the big potatoes."  
  
"Yes."  
  
She lays her forehead down on the cool of her desk, willing her anger into submission, willing herself to unclench her fists, to breathe. "Were you the one who said it should be Leo who told me?" she says to her lap.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She bites her lip to hold the tears back. "Why?"  
  
"Because frankly, CJ, the last thing we need right now is you throwing things around the Oval Office! We're all pissed off, Claudia Jean! But the last thing any of us need is--"  
  
She silences him with a raised hand, and her anger is back in full force. She snaps her head up and her voice is louder than it should be, but she can't help it and besides, this late, they're the only ones left in the building. "So you can scream and yell and rant -- and I'm sure you did, Toby -- you can do all that, then show up at my house at four in the morning and fuck me senseless, but I don't even get to hear it from him? That's just not fair, Toby. That's just --"  
  
"No," he admits, and his voice is so soft it's deadly. "No, CJ, it's not fair. None of this is fair. But when the press asks you how you reacted when he told you, it would be just another lie for you to have to tell. Turn the focus onto Leo, turn it onto how you --"  
  
"How I what, Toby? How I was left out of the loop again? How once again, I was the last to know? You still don't trust me. Josh, Sam? Sure, let the President tell them. They're strong men. They can handle it! But CJ? Better let Leo tell her -- the little woman can't deal --"  
  
"That's not what --"  
  
"The hell it isn't, Toby! The hell it isn't," she looks around, wishing there was something left to throw. There's not, and in that moment her anger is overcome by sadness. "You could have told me, you know. Instead of Leo. It could have been --"  
  
"No."  
  
"I can't control this story, Toby. No one's gonna write about how I reacted, about who told me. I'm the only one who'd care if it was you or Leo or the President."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You know what he said? He said 'CJ, the president has relapsing-remitting MS. We're not sure if and when we're going public. And you need to meet with Oliver Babish first thing tomorrow morning.' That was it, Toby. That was--"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why did you come here, Toby?" she asks, voice trembling slightly.  
  
He doesn't say anything, but instead extends both his arms, palm facing upwards. It's an offering, of sorts, and in him, it seems almost like a prayer.  
  
"You came here tonight because you knew how angry I--," she answers for him.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You came here so I'd yell at you instead of doing anything--"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You came because you--"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She lays her head back on the desk, because suddenly the world is speeding up again, but for entirely different reasons. It's like being five-years-old and spinning faster, faster, faster! on a merry-go-round, and she feels inappropriately giddy. She's vaguely aware of her door closing, of him approaching, aware of his hand resting on her back. Anyone else would try to hold her right now, but that's not who he is, and it's not who she is, so he rests a hand on her back.  
  
At his touch, the world starts to slow down and she raises her head to look at him. His eyes are soft and focused on her, and he's not the enemy, and he looks just as frightened as she feels. She tilts her mouth towards his, because it seems like the right thing to do, and then he's kissing her, and in that moment, she is a little less frightened, and she is perfectly anchored to the earth.


End file.
